


Counting Down Cuddles

by kathkin



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 16:53:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5878378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathkin/pseuds/kathkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the Doctor purrs sometimes (even though it isn't dignified), Jamie has nightmares, and they both enjoy a good cuddle. Or, five cuddles, five snapshots, in reverse order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Counting Down Cuddles

**Author's Note:**

> [DragonMakr](http://www.whofic.com/viewuser.php?uid=22173) on Teaspoon commented that they thought [(No More Than) Five Cuddles](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5639593) was going to be a 'Five Times' collection, based on the title. So, um, here's that five times collection. Enjoy!

5.

Jamie was right on the edge of sleep when he felt it. A curious sort of humming upon his chest, gentle and burbling. He opened his eyes and looked down at the Doctor’s dark, untidy head. He had his cheek pressed to Jamie’s bare skin, his face turned away. Jamie unlooped one arm from around the Doctor’s waist and lifted a lock of hair. The Doctor’s eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted, and he was – _was_ he? Good God, he _was_.

Well, Jamie thought, this was new. He began to laugh, chuckling to himself and stirring the Doctor. “Hmm?” The humming stopped. “What’s that?”

“You were purrin’, Doctor,” said Jamie.

“ _Purr_ ing?” The Doctor lifted his head a scant inch from Jamie’s chest to peer up at him. “Oh, oh good gracious no. I don’t _purr_.”

“Aye, you do,” said Jamie. “You were purrin’ away like a big cat.”

“No, no.” The Doctor snuggled down on Jamie’s chest. “You must have been dreaming, Jamie.” He yawned. “I’d never do anything so undignified.” Jamie smirked at the notion of the Doctor caring a whit for his dignity. Honestly, since when? “No, no. I did no such thing.” Smacking his lips, he rolled his head against Jamie’s chest as if it were a convenient pillow and closed his eyes.

Toying with the Doctor’s hair, Jamie watched as he drifted off. Sure enough, as his breathing evened out, off he went. A deep, steady purr like a big house cat that made Jamie’s chest hum and his insides tingle. “There ye go again!”

“Hm?” The purring ceased. The Doctor opened an eye. “Now, that’s quite enough. I was doing nothing of the sort.”

“If you say so.” Jamie returned his arm to the Doctor’s waist and gave him a squeeze. The Doctor sighed happily and closed his eye.

Scant moments later, off he went, purring happily as if he’d had his milk and was settled down for a nice nap before the fire. Jamie couldn’t help but laugh, lolling his head back against the pillows. It was such a strange and delightful picture, that funny noise coming out of the Doctor.

The Doctor’s eyes flicked open, and he said, “oh, what now?”

“You were purrin’ again.” Jamie grinned fondly down at him.

“Oh, for pity’s sake, I was _not_ –” The Doctor’s eyes widened. “ _Was_ I?”

“Aye, ye were,” said Jamie. “You were purrin’ away every time ye drifted off.”

“Oh,” said the Doctor in his littlest voice.

It occurred to Jamie that maybe the Doctor wasn’t meant to purr – that maybe this meant there was something wrong with him. After all, in all the time that Jamie’d known him, he’d never purred before. “Is that bad?”

“No, no,” said the Doctor. “It’s just, ah, a little, well –”

“Undignified?”

“Quite.”

“Well, I dinnae mind if you dinnae.”

“I do mind.” The Doctor propped his chin on Jamie’s chest. “It’s just not proper, you know. Purring in front of people.”

“Who cares about proper?” Jamie petted his back. “You purr all you like. It’s nice.”

The Doctor looked quite astonished. “Really?”

“Aye,” said Jamie. “Tickles a bit, sort of. It’s sweet.”

“ _Is_ it?” The Doctor came over a touch bashful. “I never thought of it like that. I’m, ah, sorry if I startled you. It’s just –”

“Just what?” said Jamie.

“It’s just, well – ah, you’re warm.”

“ _Am_ I?” Jamie snorted out a laugh. The Doctor joined him, giggling, ducking his head into Jamie’s chest to hide his blush.

“Oh dear,” he was saying, “oh, dear.”

“You’re a big old tom cat,” said Jamie, stroking him.

“I am not,” said the Doctor. “I’m – oh, here.” Raising himself up onto his arms, he crawled up the bed and gave Jamie a kiss. “Mmm.”

“You’re a big soft cat,” said Jamie.

“Shush, you.” The Doctor kissed him again.

 

4.

Beside him, Jamie snuffled in his sleep.

The Doctor glanced across the bed. Jamie was flopped on his side, his hair mussed and his face half-buried in the pillow. One of his arms was flung out towards the edge of the bed. He was to all appearances peacefully and soundly asleep. He waited for a slow count of twenty, to be certain. Jamie didn’t stir again.

Satisfied, he snuggled down beneath his blankets, adjusted the angle of his reading lamp, and turned over a page. He had his cocoa, he had an old favourite volume on trans-temporal engineering, and he had Jamie. It really didn’t get much cosier than this.

From the other side of the bed, there came a snuffle, followed by a sleepy whimper. The Doctor snapped to attention. Jamie was shifting in his sleep, writhing, his outslung hand clenching into a fist. His head tossed against the pillow and the Doctor saw that his face was all twisted up.

Letting his book fall closed, the Doctor waited, half-holding his breath, to see if Jamie would settle on his own. One – two – three – Jamie whimpered and mumbled something indistinct of which the Doctor caught only, “no – don’t, ye –” He cried out, softly, piteously.

With a deep sigh, the Doctor set his book upon the bedside table and reached over to touch Jamie’s shoulder. “Jamie?” He gave the shoulder a squeeze and a shake. “Jamie, hush.”

Jamie twisted in the Doctor’s grip and mumbled in his sleep.

“Oh, Jamie.” Scooting across the bed, he put his arms around the boy and said, “shhh, Jamie. Hush, now. You’re safe. I’m here.”

Jamie stilled – and stirred. “Doctor?” His voice was choked, tinged with panic, and his half-open eyes were clouded with confusion, as if he didn’t know where he was.

“That’s right. You’re quite, quite safe.” He hugged Jamie tighter. “You were dreaming.”

Jamie squeezed his eyes shut – and sighed. The Doctor felt the tension seep from his body, not so much relaxing as slackening as a puppet whose strings had been sliced through. 

A few moments passed. Jamie nuzzled the worn fabric of the Doctor’s trousers. The Doctor stroked his back. “It was just a dream,” he said, pulling Jamie into his lap.

“I know,” said Jamie. “I’m alright now.” But his skin was slick with sweat and his heart was racing along a mile a minute. The Doctor pressed the flat of his hand to Jamie’s chest, feeling it slow, counting the beats till he could be sure Jamie was alright.

They lay in silence, him holding Jamie, Jamie blinking sleepily as his heart gently slowed. “Ach,” said Jamie at length, screwing up his face, frustrated with himself.

“What were you dreaming about?” said the Doctor. “The usual?”

Jamie stiffened momentarily in his arms. “Aye,” he said, a soft breath out as he relaxed.

“Well, it’s over now.” The Doctor reached for his mug. “Have some cocoa.”

The cocoa brightened Jamie right up, as it usually did. He half-lay, half-sat in the Doctor’s arms, sipping his cocoa and chatting. “Och, I’m awake now. I’m no’ sure I can get back to sleep.”

“You can keep me company, if you like,” said the Doctor, patting Jamie’s shoulders and watching ruefully as his cocoa vanished away.

“Mmm. I _am_ tired.” Jamie passed the Doctor his now-empty mug. The Doctor inspected the dregs and set it on the table, pushing it away from himself with a sigh. “Hey.” Jamie batted at him, snuggling down in his lap. “Will ye read to me?”

“Oh, ah.” The Doctor reached for his book. “I don’t think you’ll like it. Dreadfully technical stuff. All about the inner workings of time machines. It’ll bore you rigid, I’m afraid.”

“Aye, that’d the point.” Jamie closed his eyes. “It’ll send me right off.”

The Doctor pursed his lips. “Oh, alright, then.” He leafed through the book, finding his place. “Chapter seven – Jamie?”

“Hmm? Aye,” murmured Jamie, already half asleep.

“Ah.” The Doctor ruffled his hair, and continued. “Chapter Seven. Temporal Harmonics and Melodics –”

 

3.

According to the clock beside his bed – well, Jamie’s bed, if one wanted to be pedantic, but he’d slept in it enough times now for it to be his by adoption (not to mention that they were _all_ his beds, being that it was his TARDIS) – according to the clock, the Doctor been asleep almost three hours. All in all, a most satisfying night’s sleep. He waved a hand to turn on the lamp, stretched, and sighed.

Jamie’s arm was on his chest, flung across his torso in a loose hug. His mouth was slightly open and his overlong fridge was fluttering as he breathed. The Doctor sighed and lay still for a moment, captivated by the sight. He was ever so lucky, he thought, to be sharing a bed with someone so preciously handsome and handsomely cuddly.

Ah, well. He had things to do. He’d left his book on the chair across the room, for one. He’d read for an hour or so and then he’d go to the control room and find something to occupy himself till Jamie and Zoe woke up.

But first, to find a way to extricate himself from Jamie without waking him. If he could just – ease himself out – very slowly –

He inched across the mattress, stopping every time Jamie so much as sighed in his sleep. He thought he was making good progress, until his flank knocked against Jamie’s outstretched hand – and Jamie stirred.

Stirred – and snuffled – and clung. His arm tightened around the Doctor’s waist, gripping the fabric of his nightshirt. He raised his head, mumbled some sleepy endearment – and plopped it down on the Doctor’s chest.

_Ah_ , the Doctor thought. _Oh, dear_. Jamie was lying half on top of him, sleeping soundly and clearly very comfortable. The Doctor was fairly comfortable as well – or he would be, once he could – yes – straighten his legs. But he appeared to be thoroughly stuck. There was no way he could wiggle out now without Jamie waking.

Gently, he took Jamie’s wrist and tried to pry his hand away from its fiendish grip. Jamie merely clung on tighter. The Doctor frowned, pinching his eyebrows together, pondering his next move. Perhaps if he gave Jamie a taste of his own medicine. That might work.

It was a simple enough plan. Carefully, awkwardly, he wrapped his arms around Jamie, hugged tight, and made to roll him onto his back.

Jamie didn’t budge an inch. He made an unhappy snuffling noise and tightened his grip on the Doctor, nuzzling his chest. A smile played upon his lips. If he didn’t know better, the Doctor would say Jamie was doing this deliberately.

“You’re doing this deliberately, aren’t you?” he said.

“Mmm,” murmured Jamie, shifting slightly.

“You fiend.” Toying with Jamie’s hair, the Doctor let out a sigh. Until such a time as Jamie woke up or moved on his own, he was trapped. Sparing a forlorn glance at his book – which was a very exciting book with murders in it, and he was very much looking forward to confirming his theory about the identity of the murderer – he resigned himself to the inevitable. He would just have to stay put.

“You’ve got me right where you want me, haven’t you?” he said, mussing Jamie’s hair. “I’m all yours.” He patted Jamie’s shoulder. “Cling to your heart’s content, I suppose.”

 

2.

The Doctor’s eyes were closed. He might have been sleeping, but Jamie couldn’t always tell. He had a funny way of sometimes sleeping with his eyes open. It could be that he liked lying with his eyes closed.

His eyes were closed, and Jamie was snuggled up beside him, doing a spot of exploring. He ran his fingers over the Doctor’s flat tummy, tracing the line of wiry hair. He was still startled by how little of the Doctor there was, once you took away his too-big coat and shirt and trousers. Underneath all the layers, he was lightly-built, compact – like one of those wee insects that could lift rocks as big as themselves.

With a sigh, he shifted closer, lifting his head and resting it on the Doctor’s chest. His eyes slipped half-closed as he traced circles on the Doctor’s skin. He was curiously cool to the touch. It was nice. Different, but nice-different.

As he drifted off to sleep, he became more and more aware of the steady thrum of the Doctor’s heartbeat beneath his ear, a firm _ba-bum, ba-bum, ba-bum_. He felt the Doctor shift beneath him, his hand resting on Jamie’s shoulder, squeezing gentle, and he smiled to himself.

But there was – something strange. Something off. When he listened more intently to the Doctor’s heartbeat – _ba-bum, ba-bum, ba-bum_ – he could hear a kind of echo, an after-beat. _Ba-ba-ba-bum, Ba-ba-ba-bum, Ba-ba-ba-bum_. Stirring, he lifted his head, clearing the sound from his ear. The Doctor’s eyes were closed tight. He looked so peaceful.

And yet when he returned his head to the Doctor’s chest, he could hear it, that off-kilter echo. The Doctor’s heart was beating all wrong. “Doctor!”

“Hm?” The Doctor didn’t open his eyes.

“Hey! Doctor!” Jamie pulled himself up, reaching out to shake the Doctor’s shoulder. What if he wouldn’t wake – what if he was dying, or –

The Doctor’s eyes flicked open. “Hmm? Jamie?” He sounded normal. Sleepy, which was an odd and unfamiliar way for the Doctor to sound, but – normal. “Whatever’s the matter?”

“Your heart,” Jamie managed to say.

“What about it?

“It doesnae sound right!”

“Really?” The Doctor looked down at his own chest, alarmed. “How so?” He put his fingers to his neck, feeling his pulse – and relaxed, his mouth twisting into a wry, fond smile. “Ah,” he said. “I think I see the problem.”

“Are ye alright?” Jamie babbled. “Are ye –”

“I’m perfectly alright,” said Jamie. “It’s just that – oh, here.” He took Jamie by the wrist and pressed his hand to his chest, over his heart. “One.”

“Eh?”

The Doctor moved Jamie’s hand to the right side of his chest – or rather, the wrong side. “Two.”

“What’re you –” And Jamie felt it, quite distinctly. The source of the echo he’d heard: another heart, beating happily away on the other side.

He snatched away his hand as if the Doctor’s chest were red-hot. “What in the world –” But of course, it _wasn’t_ anything in the world. He had a sudden wild urge to bolt, to run away from – from the wrong, _other_ thing. But it was only the Doctor, smirking down at him fondly as if this were all a lark. “What d’you need two for?” he blurted out.

“Well, for twice the fun, of course,” the Doctor said, beaming at him.

And it was – it wasn’t as if he hadn’t _known_. He’d known the Doctor wasn’t exactly a man. He’d known it, deep down, almost as soon as he’d clapped eyes on him. But this was different. This was real and solid, touchable, audible, and he found himself wondering just exactly what he was doing, lying in bed with – with an _alien_.

At the look on his face, the Doctor’s smile dropped suddenly to a frown. “Jamie?” he said. “It’s alright, isn’t it?” He sounded so plaintive.

The Doctor was cold to the touch sometimes. He almost never seemed to sleep – and sometimes when he napped he kept his eyes open. He would go for days without food, like a wolf. Jamie had thought at first that he was some sort of Fae creature and he wondered if he’d not been half-right.

Squirming beneath him, the Doctor squeezed his shoulder. “Jamie?”

He’d been miles away. He tried several times to speak, and at last managed, “I don’t even know what you are.”

“Does it really matter?” said the Doctor.

Well, Jamie supposed, it hadn’t mattered up until now. “I suppose not.” Resting his head on the Doctor’s chest, he shifted about till his ear was over his heart – _one_ of his hearts, he amended – and listened for that funny, echoing heartbeat. _Ba-ba-ba-bum, Ba-ba-ba-bum_. “Sounds strange.”

“Hmm, well,” said the Doctor. “I don’t know how you get by with one, to be honest.”

Jamie chuckled into the Doctor’s chest. “If you say so.” He closed his eyes. The Doctor stroked his hair.

“Mmm. You’re ever so fluffy,” he said.

“Oh, aye?” murmured Jamie.

“Like a bunny rabbit,” said the Doctor. “Hmm?” Jamie wasn’t listening any more. He was halfway asleep again, lulled off by the strange, steady sound of the Doctor’s double heartbeat.

 

1.

There’d been – a flash of light, and a sound like – like he imagined a lion roaring. Then the world had started spinning and spinning till he didn’t know which way was up, and then – then –

Opening his eyes with a cry, Jamie tried to run and found that he was lying down. He tried to stand, to leap to his feet, but his limbs wouldn’t do what he wanted and he was overcome by a wave of dizziness. He flopped back down onto something soft and there he flailed like an overturned beetle.

“Shhh,” said a voice. A pair of strong arms wrapped around him. “Settle down, Jamie. You’ll hurt yourself.”

The black and white haze above him resolved into an achingly familiar figure. “Doctor?” said Jamie. All at once, the fight went out of him. He went limp in the Doctor’s arms, gasping for breath.

They were in a darkened room. He could see metal struts above, broken glass glinting on the floor and – from where he was lying – not much else. His gaze was filled with the Doctor’s kind, worried face and creased shirt.

“ _That’s_ better.” The Doctor stroked his hair. “Hmm?”

He was stretched out on the floor, his head and shoulders in the Doctor’s lap. His face was pressed half against the Doctor’s jacket, which was soft and smelled a bit like old books and a bit like honey. He closed his eyes, took a breath, and started again. “Doctor?”

“Yes?”

“What’s goin’ on?” He fought to remember, but it was as if someone had taken his memories and dashed them on the ground so that they broke into sparkling fragments and all he could do was scoop up handfuls. He remembered landing the TARDIS in a forest made of giant mushrooms – and they’d had to wear space suits – the Doctor and Ben and Polly, not the cybermen. He’d jumped in the air and hurt his head.

No, but that had been weeks ago – months, maybe. And there hadn’t been any mushrooms. The mushrooms were – another time. He remembered – he remembered the sea, a ship moored with giant crabs crawling and crawling all over it and the crew were robots, like men but made of metal – or was that all wrong too?

“Empath ray,” said the Doctor. “You got a nasty dose of it. Scrambles up the little grey cells.” He tapped Jamie’s forehead. “Disorienting, isn’t it? Don’t worry – it’ll pass.”

He couldn’t understand half of what the Doctor was saying, but he couldn’t say if that was the scrambling or just how the Doctor talked – or else a bit of both. “Where’re Ben and –” There was another name – it was on the tip of his tongue –

“They’re fine,” said the Doctor. “Safe as houses.” He smiled vaguely and Jamie had an inkling he was lying, but he was in no fit state to argue.

He breathed in deeply. His vision was unclouding further and he could see markings on the wall beyond the Doctor, torn cables trailing from the ceiling. Now for the big question. “Why’s my head in your lap?”

“I thought it would be more comfortable than the ground.” The Doctor smoothed his hair. “You _are_ comfortable, aren’t you?”

“Aye.” Jamie turned his head, nuzzling ever so slightly into the Doctor’s coat. What he really wanted was a good sleep, but he’d just woken up and he had a notion you oughtn’t sleep after hurting your head. Or maybe it was that you definitely should sleep after hurting your head. He couldn’t say.

“Good,” said the Doctor. “Now, what’s your name?”

Jamie frowned. “You know my name.”

“Well, of course I do,” said the Doctor. “But I want to hear you say it. Come on, now.” He gave Jamie a squeeze.

“Jamie,” he said.

“Short for…?” the Doctor prompted.

“James – och, James Robert Maccrimmon. You know that.”

“Shush,” said the Doctor. “And what do we travel in? You and me and Ben and Polly?”

“The TARDIS,” said Jamie, blinking in confusion.

“Which stands for?”

“I dunno.”

The Doctor pulled a face. “Fair enough. One more, now. Who was King, when you left Scotland?”

Jamie rolled his head and fixed the Doctor with a sleepy glower. “Are ye joking?”

“Ohh,” said the Doctor. “Yes. Sorry.” He brought a hand out from beneath Jamie’s head. “How many fingers?”

“Five,” said Jamie. The Doctor folded one down. “Four.”

The Doctor waggled his remaining fingers. “And the rest?”

“Three, two, one,” said Jamie. “What’s the point of this?”

“To see that everything’s ticking away normally.” The Doctor patted the side of Jamie’s head. “In here. That, ah – that was – you were –” He cleared his throat. “You’re going to be alright, I – I think.” His voice had a tremble in it that Jamie’d never heard before.”

“Hey, what’s the matter?” he said.

“It’s just that –” The Doctor’s face eased into a weary smile. “Oh, nothing.”

“Sounds like something.”

“I’ll explain later,” said the Doctor. “You rest, now. Don’t worry your pretty head about it.” He tousled Jamie’s hair.

“Oh, aye –” _Pretty_? Jamie’s head was swimming and he was very confused – but he could swear the Doctor was flirting with him. That didn’t seem right, somehow, but what did he know? He didn’t even remember where they were, or how to use his feet. And it wasn’t as if he minded. It felt nice. Sort of warm.

“Up you come.” Keeping a supporting arm around his waist, the Doctor eased him into a sitting position. Jamie’s head spun and spun and he grabbed the Doctor’s shoulder to steady himself. “There we are.”

As his head stilled, Jamie leaned forward into the Doctor’s arms, slipping into a proper hug. “Mmm.” He felt strange and lost, adrift in the confusion of his own memories. He wanted to be grounded. He wanted – closeness. Contact.

“Feeling better?” The Doctor’s hand moved in slow circles on his back.

“A bit,” said Jamie.

“Good,” said the Doctor. “Now, don’t ever do that again.”

“Don’t do what again?” Jamie drew back to look the Doctor in the eye – and found their faces dizzyingly close. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Well, you – oh, I’ll explain later.”

“What did I –”

“Later,” said the Doctor firmly, and drew Jamie close. His fingers danced briefly across Jamie’s hair. He pressed a kiss to his temple.

Jamie nuzzled his face into the Doctor’s coat, breathing in the worn, honeyed scent of him. _Later_ he silently agreed. It could all wait.


End file.
